How to Gain an Invisible Friend
by apocalypse later
Summary: or 'Adventures in the Worst Afterlife EVER', because Ace sure didn't sign up for this s***. What happened to eternal peace? Or more importantly, his hat? (In which Ace is a time-traveling ghost, his younger self is unimpressed, Sabo is alive and Luffy is stupid.)
1. Step 1

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warnings: Tongue-in-cheek weirdness and absolutely no plot. At all. Will this be continued? I have no idea, but I'm leaving it as 'In-Progress' for now.

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 1**

_he dies._

Ace knows he is dead because he's received a fist of lava slamming through him, melting his organs, the only mercy being the last minute with his brother and that his body was in too much shock, nerves too badly destroyed, to feel much pain.

He knows he's dead because he was in Marineford, he was surrounded by the screams and the crying and the moans of pain and horror, and now there is _silence_. Complete and utter silence, and it's relief and fresh torture in equal measure.

Everything he's left behind is loud and glaring in his memory. Everything that could happen to his nakama, his family. Everything he could have done that he didn't get a chance to do, and they're not _regrets_ precisely, but... they linger, still.

His thoughts have turned to the future (because there must be a future, he's dead and still aware, there must be _some_ afterlife, he hope, hope, _hopes_, he'll see his mother, Thatch, maybe Pops when he comes, everyone else he's lost), anticipation and dread and then

And then he's gone from _there _and suddenly he's

_here_.

**XXXXX**

"_Gol D. Ace_."

He doesn't know if it's Heaven or Hell – Heaven to see here, Hell to watch this moment, but Ace is memorising her voice, her looks, the way she clings to her son, touches him as if she wants to give everything of herself to the babe swaddled in her arms. Right now, Ace can even bear to be called that name, if it's spoken by her.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice almost cracking, even though he knows she can't hear him, that no-one in the room has shown any sign of noticing him. He stands at the edge of the room, almost afraid to approach, as if everything will vanish if he steps closer to Portgas D. Rouge, who has just minutes left to live. "I never wanted _this_."

He closes his eyes, grief-stricken, and steps back to press himself against the wall. This fails miserably when he falls _through_ the wall, stumbling in surprise at the absence of solidity behind him, and ends up slamming his head and back on the tiled floor of the next room.

"_OWSHIT_-I totally meant to do that," he says, now glad that he's some kind of ghost. Ace gets up, dusting himself off and poking his head back through the wall to glance around, just to make sure he's still invisible and that there aren't a group of sniggering and/or violent Marines who witnessed his completely reasonable trip.

"If floors are gonna be solid, walls should be as well," he adds loudly, marching back into the room and crossing his arms, sparing a glare at the offending piece of architecture. "I'm not a big fan of logic, but there should be _some_ standardisation to these rules."

Ace keeps his arms crossed, careful not to lean back, and glances over the room again, from nervous Marines and frowning Garp ('_whoah, he_ _looks young. That's just freaky._') to Rouge (he tries not to watch, because he's heard enough of those rattling breaths to know what they mean, and he doesn't need to have a breakdown here, repress,_ repress_) and then at the younger version of himself, not crying any longer but staring, wide-eyed with the stupidity of a baby, straight at – oh.

Straight at _him._

Well. Shit. This isn't good.

Garp lets out a long sigh and reaches gently for the baby, taking the distracted Ace (little Ace? Ace the Younger? He has no idea what to call the younger version of himself) from his mother's arms. "I'll look after you, kid," he promises quietly, shifting his arms to cradle the babe and managing to drop him.

The yells of horror are echoed from a number of quarters as Garp quickly moves to pick baby-Ace up_, _pretending the boy wasn't falling onto the floor just a second ago and guffawing about how slippery babies can be, while Ace adds his own opinion ("_I wasn't slippery, you moron, you're just shit with kids! Did you drop me on my head? Oh fuck, that explains why Luffy's so stupid, you kept dropping him didn't you, you goddamn-_") and at least baby-Ace is too busy crying now to stare at his older self.

Ace thinks those lungs are gonna get a lot more exercise by the time Garp ditches him with Dadan.

Luckily, the kid's gonna have the best invisible friend _ever_ around to protect him.

Once Ace learns how to stop falling through walls, anyway.


	2. Step 2

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Notes: 19 reviews thus far – for fewer than 800 words. I don't know what you're all smoking, but I want some. The next chapter of my other fic will probably be next but for now, enjoy.

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 2**

In the last two weeks, Ace had learned a great deal more about babies than he ever, _ever_ wanted to know.

He'd never had any urge to breed – apart from the fact he wouldn't wish the Government's automatic hatred and death sentence on _any_ kid, a pirate ship was hardly any place for a child and Ace was quite certain piracy was what he wanted to spend the rest of his life (however short and violent) doing.

Now though, he was bound more tightly to a squalling factory of faeces and snot than any mere handcuffs, chains and (quite possibly) superglue could manage.

Babies were _loud_. Babies _stunk_. Babies screamed and shat and snivelled and cried. They did it at _every hour of day and night_, despite Ace's original belief that they actually needed to _sleep_ now and then. They constantly wanted attention and food (and for a _D._ baby, that practically equated to several cows worth of milk every day), and by the third day the novelty of 'Holy crap, time-travel! And I'm a ghost! And that baby's _me_!' had worn off and been replaced with 'Oh God, oh God, please let me hold a pillow so I can _smother it_.'

Unfortunately for Ace's ear-drums, he still hadn't worked out any way he might be able to move things, despite trying to punch objects or straining at them so hard with his mind that any witnesses who could see him would think he was either constipated or had just unintentionally relieved himself of such a problem.

He was also, he had discovered, unable to go further than ten metres from the usually-awake, constantly-hungry, incredibly-loud baby.

On Garp's flagship of thin walls and the often-rough sea that only encouraged young Ace's displeasure, the only possible solace dead-Ace could find was that he wasn't suffering alone.

Sometimes he yelled encouragement at the twitching, sleep-deprived Marines to pick up a damn pillow _themselves_.

Two. Long. Miserable. Weeks.

"It doesn't even make _sense_," he informed Garp as the Vice-Admiral pulled stupid faces over the hastily-constructed crib, probably mentally scarring his younger self. "I mean, the whole _situation_ is stupid, yeah, but I mean _you_. _Your_ plan. I mean, seriously, you plan to get me – him – whatever, to grow into a strong and loyal Marine by having him raised by _mountain bandits_?" Ace paused to let this statement sink in, before suggesting his epic analysis of, "You're completely damn _nuts_!" which had been suggested by many Marine psychiatrists before they turned in their resignations and ran from headquarters screaming 'Never let that bastard near me again'.

Admittedly, Garp couldn't hear him, but after two weeks of absolutely no human contact, physical or social, relegated to the status of observer, Ace had gained something of a habit of hurling commentary at whoever came within range of his travel-limit.

Perhaps that wasn't quite true – Ace did have _some_ human contact. It was merely with a child so young it hadn't yet developed motor control, a true sense of self, or the understanding that Garp was in fact trying to entertain it rather than terrify it into having one of the youngest heart-attacks in the history of the human race.

Ace had grudgingly decided that being visible only to his younger self was _slightly_ better than being visible only to Garp, because the baby actually had the potential to grow into decent company, while Garp... yeah, not gonna happen.

Not that he didn't love the stubborn old idiot, but there was a reason Bogart was whispered of in reverent tones as '_The Man with the Unbreakable Brain_'.

"_Mountain bandits_," Ace repeated, because he was bored numb and didn't even have an impending execution to anticipate. "Really, what were you _thinking_? What _are_ you thinking? I got shafted in genetics _and_ upbringing, and then you have the nerve to get pissed off when I'm not jumping at the chance to stick a uniform on?" He slapped a hand through Garp's head, which wasn't anywhere as satisfying as if he could _actually_ whack the man. Especially when the guy was crossing his eyes and blowing raspberries at the horrified baby. "And for cryin' out loud, stop scaring the kid! Did your parents do that to you when _you_ were a couple of weeks old? Is _that_ why you're a crazy old freak?"

He whipped his hand back and forth through Garp's head for good measure, imagining the happy sounds of heavy thuds against that thick skull. How the mighty had fallen. Although that had probably started with the whole 'Oops, Teach is kicking my ass' thing. Huh.

Baby-Ace stared beseechingly up at his attempted savior, gurgling whimpers trailing off, and Ace stared sadly back. "Sorry, kid. You're doomed. You're fucked. On the bright side, at least we're not genetically related to him, huh? Poor Luffy."

"Oh-_hoooohhh_, you're quiet now, huh?" Garp grinned, causing the baby to flinch, Ace wincing in sympathy. "Yes, isn't Garp a good grandpa? Isn't Garp a good grandpa? Yes he is!"

"Like _hell_ you are!" Ace snapped, waving his hand frantically through the hollow skull where most people would actually keep a brain. "And it was _me_ who made him quiet, you're scaring the poor kid! Keep those crazy eyes away from me! Him! Whatever!"

Garp finished his cooing and gave a long, far-too-loud laugh, crossing his arms as he straightened up. "_Gwahahahaha!_ We'll have you speaking in no time, little Ace! Say 'Justice', now! _Juuuuuuust-is._ Just. Is. C'mon, kid!"

"HE'S TWO WEEKS OLD, YOU DERANGED FREAK!"


	3. Step 3

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Notes: I wish I could say I was drunk while writing this, but it would be a lie. And yes, chapter 5 of SVP,PB is coming along. ... Slowly.  
**UPDATE:** 13th Jan 2010 - Re-uploaded with some corrections to punctuation.

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 3**

By the age of two months, baby-Ace had suffered both the trauma of losing his mother and the perils of the voyage to the Goa Kingdom in East Blue, not to mention the Insane Horror of his self-proclaimed grandfather's presence. Now, the infant was having to get used to the rough 'care' of Dadan and her followers, leaving the elder Ace unsure whether he felt sorrier for the woman or the baby.

His younger self was less of a handful and more like several _limbs_-full, despite the fact his motor control was barely existent and speech completely lacking – two months of life had only strengthened Ace's lungs and appetite both.

Considering what Dadan had put up with, Ace thought, he could understand why she'd been so eager to let him run off as he got older. It would have been a funny thought, if it hadn't been tempered with 'I have to put up with this for _years_', which made him wish he was somewhere more pleasant, like encased in an active volcano, or back in Impel Down.

Sometimes it could be entertaining – watching the interactions of Dadan and the other bandits was kind of funny (and informative) but most of the time, Ace was fairly sure he was going to go crazier than Garp on a bad day. Ghosts, it seemed, didn't eat, didn't sleep, and couldn't interact with anything no matter what they tried. Except for his younger self, of course, who at least seemed rapt with attention as Ace told the baby story after story (some of them even _true_) to pass the time.

Time.

Passed.

Slowly.

_Too_ damn slowly.

"I had a hat," Ace confided in the infant one day, as he lounged on a ratty chair near the makeshift crib. "It was the best hat _ever_." He pretended the baby's wide gaze signified dedicated attention, and carried on. "It was _orange_. And it had two faces on it – _blue_ones." Ace paused briefly to let this brilliant description sink in to his captive audience, even as he waved a hand near a fly crawling over the chair, wishing he could actually _hit _it. Seeing a fly amble through your body was unnerving.

"I _liked _that hat," he added, somewhat despondently. It had been a good hat – he'd had it more than three years with only a little repair needed, and considering he'd been travelling the Grand Line and New World in all that time, that was pretty damn impressive. He could almost feel it on his head now, a familiar, warm weight pressing down, keeping the glare of the sun out of his eyes, protecting him from rain, saving him from headlice (Ace would never forget the Great Headlice Infestation which most of Whitebeard's crew had succumbed to, and the almost supernatural way he'd remained unaffected until Thatch had finally snapped and yanked the hat off, leading to Ace finally falling victim himself, mass recriminations, and Marco having to lock both of them in a bank vault [don't ask] for six hours until they'd made up).

Where was he?

Oh, yes.

He could almost feel it. When he idly reached a hand up, Ace could feel the firm material of the brim under his fingers, could reach across to run his fingers over the cool metal of the faces adorning it, could –

_What._

Ace sat up. Reached up with his other hand, used both of them to grip his hat, his _hat_. Stared straight ahead, mind racing, because _holy crap_– it was _his hat_, the faithful friend he'd kept for years, the one he hadn't seen since Blackbeard had ever-so-slightly beat his ass into the ground, his lucky charm, and it was currently _on his damn head_.

"I have no clue what the hell's going on," Ace admitted to his younger self, a slow grin dawning on his face, "but I think this might be a sign things are going to get better."

The baby promptly frowned back, then shat himself.

Ace figured he should leave reading omens to the experts. And get as far away from the smell as possible.

**XXXXX**

At three months, Ace the Younger's main form of entertainment was trying to hit his older self, now that he'd gained enough to control to flail his arms in a pre-determined direction, and Ace the Older's main form of frustration was trying to keep his hat with him at all times – it had a strange habit of vanishing if he got too side-tracked, and wouldn't turn back up until he'd focused on recalling the horrible itching sensation of being afflicted with headlice. Which was odd, to say the least.

Thankfully, Ace had pretty much thrown logic out of the window by now, and was operating on the rules of 'whatever happens, happens' and 'maybe I'll get through this functionally sane' which was a nice hope to hold on to, if unlikely.

He had at least one other form of amusement though, which was that Dadan seemed rather wary of something – specifically the fact that baby-Ace kept grasping, staring and laughing at something she couldn't see.

It was entirely mature and sensible of Ace to provoke the kid into reacting when Dadan was watching him, and he refused to believe otherwise. Especially when he got to listen to the bandits worriedly debating whether a) the baby was not all there in the head, b) Dadan herself was losing it, or c) some kind of invisible guardian beast was lurking around, waiting to eat anyone who threatened the baby (because hell, it _was _Rogers' kid, after all, and who else could bind an evil, demonic being to servitude?).

He'd almost forgotten how much fun screwing with people could be.


	4. Step 4

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Notes: Despite this being meant to be a _side_-project, I'm somehow writing this before SVP,PB. Sometimes the crowd DOES win. This still has absolutely no plot and I have no idea where I'm going with it, so enjoy.

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 4**

"Human. Flesh." They were possibly the oddest words that Ace had never expected to teach a baby, but if Garp could try to corrupt his younger self with the word 'Justice', then – no, fine. He was just bored. Give him a break. "_Flesh_. Hyu-men. C'mon kid, you can do it!"

The six-month old stared up at him, eyes wide. Ace took this as a good sign, and not evidence of mental instability or confusion at the guy trying to use him as a proxy to terrify a group of mountain bandits. "Gah?"

"Nearly! HYU-men. I believe in you, little-me. Make our mom proud, got it?"

Tiny eyebrows furrowed, and Ace marvelled at how ugly a squished-up baby face could be. "Fl'sh!"

"So close! You're nearly there, short stuff." Ace nodded firmly and tapped his fingers against the baby's stubby hand. It looked like it was going to be a while before little-Ace mastered the fine art of high-fives. "After you're got 'human flesh' down, we can start on 'braaaaains' – you gotta drag that out, or it won't work properly – and maybe 'taxes'. That'll _really_ terrify Dadan. You with me?"

"B-gah," little-Ace replied solemnly, waving his hands at his older counterpart. "_Hat_."

Ace paused, still hovering over the crib (not literally, and that sucked. What was the point of being a ghost if you couldn't even fly?), and tilted his head, gazing down. "Hat?"

Two chubby hands waved frantically at the orange beauty that perched atop Ace's head. "Hat!"

"Ha. Yeah, _fuck_ no, kid." He reached up to tip it to a somewhat jaunty angle, which he would describe as 'rakish' and anyone else would call 'stupid'. "You'd just dribble over it. Maybe when you're older, and can appreciate its Utter Perfection." Ace smiled proudly, though he stopped when tears started appearing in little-Ace's eyes. "What? No! Don't cry! You'll get your own hat some day! And – it'll be _twice_ as orange! Maybe three times!"

"Na?"

Ace nodded again, crossing his arms. "That's right. It'll be the most amazing hat in all- why I am telling you this? You can't even understand me."

"Gbah!"

"Yeah, I guess. I've been talking to you for six months, and you can't understand any of it. Why stop now?"

"Hat," agreed little-Ace, followed by a spit bubble to back up his point.

**XXXXX**

By the age of seven months, the unfortunate baby had a wide and unusual vocabulary. Sure, he couldn't say 'mama' or 'dada', but demanding human flesh and various internal organs were an easy task, something that had led to most of the bandits eyeing little-Ace with trepidation and making signs to ward off evil when they ended up in the same room as him.

Ace found this hilarious, although he figured he might have gone a _little_ too far teaching the baby such a wide range of profanities. The look on poor Zao's face when little-Ace had pointed at him and happily burbled '_B'stard!_' made up for it, though.

"Bored," Ace announced, because there was only so much terrifying of innocent(?) bandits one could perform without wanting to bash your head against a wall. "_Booooored_." From the way he'd been repeating it for the last twenty minutes, he wouldn't have been surprised if it were the next word his younger self learned, although the baby _was_ somewhat distracted with the twin excitement of a) learning to crawl and b) chewing on/hitting/both every object he could reach in his playpen.

"_Boooooored_." He stared out the window, gazing at the vast wilderness of... wilderness. And vastness. There were a lot of trees involved. "You wouldn't believe how bored I am. But it's a lot. And constant. A lot of constant _boredom_."

"Spleen!" little-Ace squealed cheerily, more interested in slamming his toy seagull (from Garp, naturally) against the bars of his playpen. It gave a doleful squeak.

Ace shook his head, still staring at the trees, trees, grass, trees, sky, trees and trees. "No, kiddo. No spleens for now. Maybe later." His eyes narrowed as a bird caught his attention, winging its way in the distance, shoving Ace's lack of freedom in his face and probably laughing at him. In Ace's opinion, anyway. He could almost hear its mocking even from where he stood.

Or maybe he was going crazy. Crazier. Whatever.

"I've got to get out of here," Ace muttered, resting his forehead against the window pane. "You and me, kid, against the world. What'd'you say?"

Little-Ace considered this, in the form of working out how to pass the seagull from one hand to another and then toss it out of the playpen. It was an impressive throw.

"Is that a yes, mini-me?"

"Hat!"

"Absolutely. We'll get you a hat and everything. No spleens, though. Agreed?"

The baby stared at him dopily – no, _intelligently_. This was _him_, after all! - and then at the poor seagull toy, obviously confused as how to retrieve it with the mountainous obstacle of the playpens bars in the way. "Hat."

Ace shook his head. "That's not a hat. I mean, sure, Sengoku likes wearing a seagull on his head, but that's just his own fetish. You don't have to do that. Get your_ own_ fetish, okay? One that doesn't involve having a fake bird on your head."

Despite Ace's sincerity in the matter, his younger self seemed uncertain of this good advice. "'Tish."

"I beg your pardon, Midget-Self?"

"Fetish!"

"Oh. Well, that's good too." He ambled over to the seagull and attempted to nudge it with a boot, which passed right through. "Sorry, kid. Looks like no seagull for now. Maybe Dadan or one of the others will grab it for you, huh?"

"Spleen."

"Exactly." That said, he wandered back to the despondant little-Ace and petted his hair, which seemed to cheer the baby up a little, judging by how he twisted to try and slobber over Ace's fingers. It was like he was just a miniature saliva factory. Ace marked it down to Rogers' genes (there was no way he could get anything so disgusting from his _mother_, it was probably a trade-off for the freckles), and kept petting, dodging the trails of drool as best he could. "Ya hear that? Sounds like Dadan's coming right now. She'll feed you _and_ get the seagull back. Two for one!"

Little-Ace burbled again as Dadan's footsteps neared, and beamed as much as a baby could when her massive form appeared in the doorway. "Hat!" he exclaimed happily, pointing at the seagull. Dadan stared at his outstretched finger warily, then at the seagull, obviously relieved by the latter sight. She was, Ace suspected, probably expecting to see some organ that the 'Demon Baby' had torn out of one of her men. Possibly a spleen. There was always a first time, after all, and judging by the whispers of the bandits, it wouldn't be entirely unexpected.

"Damn kid," Dadan muttered, stooping to pick the battered toy up – Ace acknowledged her as a badass by the way she didn't give a shit her fingers were getting slimy where his younger self had been chewing on it delightedly – and stomping over to drop the seagull back into the playpen, holding up the bottle of milk. "All right, brat, feeding time; get over here."

Little-Ace stared up at her for a moment, mouth working soundlessly, before crawling carefully over to the seagull and picking it up, ignoring Dadan's outstretched arms. Then he grinned at her, toy cradled in one arm and the other hand pointing at the woman. "Fetish!"

Okay, maybe Ace could hold off kidnapping the kid a _little_ longer if he could make Dadan screech like that. It made even the seagull and drool worth it.


	5. Step 4 & A Half

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Notes: Chim-chim-chiminy, chim-chim cheroo. It's not so much a chapter as a load of snippets, but it's either that or a _massive_ time-skip, and I hate those. ENJOY. Oh, and I'm adopting Psyco101's suggestion for this fic, because it amuses me too much not to. Hurrah for knives!

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 4 ½ – A Series of Unfortunate Developments**

"I don't get it."

"That's because you're an idiot." Dadan jabbed a finger in little-Ace's direction, face set. "The kid's a demon, or possessed, or haunted or _something!_ What the hell are you going to do about it, huh?"

Garp considered this, peering at the ten month old who was playing happily with his battered seagull toy (he wasn't sure why it was named 'Hat', but whatever). "What was the problem again?"

While Dadan seethed and set about explaining that it was unnatural for a baby to say and do the things that her current charge was saying and doing, Ace lounged in a corner, encouraging his mini-self to call Garp as many rude words as he could. Little-Ace seemed too preoccupied with Hat, sadly.

"I don't know what Dadan's so worried about," he informed little-Ace, who continued ignoring him. "You're developing really well for a kid! I think. It's not like I have much experience with babies. Should you be walking by now or something?"

Little-Ace promptly threw Hat through Ace's head, which he took to mean 'No, you idiot'. "Oh. Fine."

Then a staring contest ensued between dead- and little-Ace, which had the added benefit of creeping out Dadan and making Garp insist that a bit of brain-damage in childhood never hurt anyone.

"You dropped him on his head before you got him to me, didn't you?" Dadan decided, giving up.

"... Maybe."

**XXXXX**

Although it seemed that his younger self was taking his sweet time about actually, well, growing, Ace was forced to concede that it was a little (only _slightly)_ better now than when the kid had first been born.

For a start, it was little-Ace himself; now a year old, instead of sleeping so much, he was awake more often, learning, crawling around and generally being far more interesting than a newborn. Especially after Ace taught him how to unlock the crib and escape, which was always fun.

Then there were the reactions of Dadan's merry band of bandits (pun intended) to whatever bordom-defying stunt he managed to get little-Ace to pull – and finally the fact that little by little, the limits he could traverse had expanded. It had happened so slowly as to be barely noticeable from one week to the next, but he could now manage to travel a whole _fifteen_ metres from the kid.

Fine, so it wasn't much of an improvement. But an extra five metres was still an extra five metres, damn it, and at least it opened up the possibility he would be able to travel a fair distance from his younger self by the time little-Ace hit adulthood.

"Hat," little-Ace insisted, shoving the seagull at him and staring up unblinkingly.

Ace poked him in the forehead. "Yep. Hat. Mine's better."

A pitying look followed. "Fetish. Hat fetish."

"Uh. No. You've got the wrong end of the stick here, kid."

"Hat fetish!"

"It's not, I swear! I just like it, that's all!"

Little-Ace gazed up, before petting Ace gently on the arm. "Hat fetish."

"No, really! I ju- You're saying this on purpose, aren't you?"

"Spleen!"

Ace narrowed his eyes at the too-innocent face, wondering if the price of creating so much entertainment was a baby with deviousness hammered into its skull. The kid blinked up at him and smiled.

No question about it. Little-Ace was evil.

Ace had never been so proud.

**XXXXX**

"- and that was how Sabo and I banned Luffy from ever trying to dress up a water beetle again," Ace finished, reaching down to ruffle little-Ace's hair. "And just so you know, no-one ever figured out it was us that blew up the distillery. The end."

Little-Ace stared up at him blankly, as he had for the last few minutes, before throwing Hat at his face. "Stupid."

"You don't even know what that means," Ace argued. "Besides, you're only a year old. You don't get to have an opinion."

Two little eyes glared at him, before little-Ace pushed himself up and toddled over to fetch Hat. This, Ace knew, was the part where the brat sulked in a corner and ignored him.

He had no life. In so many senses of the word.

**XXXXX**

At eighteen months, the toddler was banned from crayons, pens, paint or anything that was harder to clean up than a single spilt drink. Ace thought this was an overreaction – the various scribbles had only reached as high as the kid could reach, which wasn't _that_ high. Besides, despite his help, little-Ace had spelt most of the swear-words and threats wrong.

Better luck next time, Ace figured. He couldn't wait until his mini-me actually learned _how_ to spell. For now, he focused on teaching the kid how to break out of his playpen and open doors.

Hey, problem-solving was useful, okay?

_Mwa ha haaaa._

… Damn, he was bored.

"You can do it, Mini-Me!" Little-Ace spared him a 'You're an idiot' look before continuing to fumble his way through shoving a chair close enough to the door for him to climb up and work the handle. "That's right, kid, work off that puppy fat!" Ace considered that for a second, fiddling with his hat. "Not that I'm calling you _fat_ or anything. Maybe a little chubby."

Bah. The kid was ignoring him. Verily, this could not be tolerated! Or at least, that's what Ace told himself as he ambled over to the busy brat and crouched beside him. "Hm. Maybe a _bit_ fat." He poked a finger at little-Ace's cheek. "Hey. Fatty. Lose some wei- _OWFUCK!_"

Huh. Ace stared at his finger, then at the annoyed, teething boy viciously biting the end of it. Without passing _through_ it.

"Well. _That's_ new." An experimental wiggle did nothing to lodge the attached teeth. "... You mind letting go?" Their eyes met, one of the pairs black and narrowed, reveling in the joy of being able to inflict pain on the annoying guy who'd literally haunted him since birth. "Yeah. Didn't think so."

**XXXXX**

The haul today was good – two separate groups of traders had decided it would be faster taking a shortcut through the mountains to get their goods to Goa City, rather than the longer, established (and safer) method of just taking a damn boat and moving _around_ them.

Dadan suspected that said traders now knew _why_ taking a boat was better, seeing as they'd ended up leaving all their merchandise and quite a few limbs in the Dadan Family's care.

Now came the hard part.

Moving ahead of her men, Dadan approached the door to the base, hiding a brief shiver. She could do this. She was Curly Dadan, brave enough to stand up to Vice-Admiral Garp, strong enough to beat up half the pirates in East Blue without breaking a sweat, imposing enough to keep a whole group of mountain bandits under complete control for over a decade.

She wasn't scared of a twenty month old child. Really.

She was just... _cautious_.

A quick once-over of the building determined that the boy hadn't managed to blow it up or burn it down yet, which the men had been worrying about for several months now. Another glance directed her attention to Nozuki, who was keeping guard on the building from up a tree several meters from the door. It had, after all, been impossible to order anyone to keep watch from _inside_ the building after The Incident.

Damn kid.

Dadan made a brief _all clear_ motion up at him. "Everything good?"

"I haven't heard anything. _Yet_," Nozuki confessed, eyes darting nervously as his fingers clutched tighter around his musket. "But he can't stay quiet forever, no, he can't. The demon wants to eat us, my precious, doesn't it?" He giggled hysterically and stroked the musket, apparently without noticing. "Yes, yes it _does_, but we won't let it, no..."

Mentally marking another one down in the 'mentally broken and not to put on Watching Ace duty', Dadan shook her head. She lost more men that way... Still, there were more important matters for now.

She edged a little closer to the door and – with all the courage and strength of one bad-ass mo-fo – pushed it open. It creaked ominously, because mountain bandits really didn't give a crap about oiling hinges. Let's not even mention how often the windows got washed (or failed to).

"Kid?" Dadan steeled her nerves, as she did every time she had to enter the base with only Ace already inside. She'd long decided it was ridiculous. He was a _toddler_. He wasn't a demon, or half-demon, or demon-possessed, or – actually, a _lot_ of the theories revolved around demons. Huh. But Dadan was reasonably certain they weren't true. Probably. Nor that he had his father's ghost shadowing him as a psychotic bodyguard.

Honestly, _ghosts_. Fuckin' stupid theory.

"Hey, KID! We're back!" No response. Weird. Still, maybe the brat was sleeping or – Tenryuubito forbid – he'd actually stayed in his room instead of breaking out, this time. Dadan didn't want to know _how_ the brat kept breaking out, but it was still bizarre. Dadan shrugged, still keeping a weather eye out for lunatic (and not at all demonic, no sirree) children, and briefly gave a 'He's not here, waiting to kill everyone' signal to the wary men still waiting outside, before heading to the kitchens to grab a celebratory snack.

Ah, _there_ was the little punk.

… Oh, he'd discovered knives. How cute.

…

Wait.

"_PUT THOSE DOWN, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!_"

Unnoticed in a corner, Ace gave a wide grin and thumbs up to his protegé. This mentor stuff was _awesome_.


	6. Step 5

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Notes: So there's a poll in my profile. It's shiny. Go see. Other than that, enjoy. Something of a short chapter, for now.

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 5**

Two pairs of eyes, identical in every way but size, stared intently at each other. There would be no backing down. No retreat. No surrender.

"Make me proud, kid," Ace ordered, voice grim. "Go for it."

The smaller face screwed up in deep thought. "Nine!"

"_Hnnnngh_..." Ace rubbed his forehead, gritting his teeth. Were kids _really_ this stupid? Or was it a D. trait? "Good try, but no. If there are ten Marine ships and a pirate ship blows up two of them, there are _eight_ ships left. Got it?"

The two year old stared back up at him, almost pityingly, before patting Ace's knee. "Eight M'rine ships. One p'rate ship. _Nine _ships."

"... Okay, that's enough math lessons for today. Stop looking smug, brat."

"Beat you."

"Shut up."

Ace crossed his arms, stood up, and pretended he hadn't just had his mathematical ass kicked by someone not even out of diapers. "Let's talk about... ships."

"No."

"Fighting?"

"No!"

Ignoring the odd, faint sensation of Hat the cuddly seagull flying through his head, Ace tried another subject. "Piracy?"

"No. Food." The glare might have been terrifying if, y'know, it wasn't a scrawny toddler directing it. "Wanna talk 'bout _food_. Bastard."

The older Ace considered this, tapping his foot. "By 'talk about', you mean 'eat', right?"

'_No shit, Sherlock_', said his counterpart's look. It was amazing how he could specify exactly how much of an idiot he thought Ace was just by altering his expression slightly.

"Fine, fine. Let's get you into the kitchens and grab some food, yeah? Maybe steal a knife or two while we're at it." He grinned, because after you've been almost entirely invisible and insubstantial for two years, one tends to lose one's remaining sanity (and frankly, Ace hadn't had a great deal in the first place). "And then I'll teach you the best places to stab someone if you want to put 'em down for a while!"

With a happy giggle, little-Ace tottered to his feet and headed for the door. Sometimes his weird, annoying older brother could be fun after all. Mostly when knives were involved.

**XXXXX**

And lo! The years passed, and there were knives, and it was good. Well, not for the Dadan Family, but hey – their terror and paranoia was funny, and Garp was still insistent on them 'taking care' of the young Portgas, so who cared?

There had been highs for the ghostly Ace, as well as lows. There had also been the slowly dawning realization that he'd succeeded in turning his mini-self into a knife-wielding almost-sadist, but you couldn't make an omelette without breaking a few skulls. Or something. Ace had never really been one for old sayings.

"Today, little brother," he said proudly, gazing down with pride at his young student, "you become a _man_."

"Bastard, I'm five."

"A five year old _man_."

The child rolled his eyes and wandered off to play with his birthday present (a slingshot, which the bandits hoped he'd give up his precious knives for), which was a sensible response.

"No! Wait!" Waving his arms frantically, Ace planted himself in front of the boy, which was a lot more effective now he was actually solid to the kid. "Somewhere out _there_-" he motioned across the wide expanse of mountainous forest and beyond that, to the Gray Terminal, "- is _Sabo_."

Extricating some of the contents of his nose, little-Ace stared back up at him. "That kid ya tell stories about?"

"They're not stories."

"So?"

Ace performed a spasming little dance to display his horror at this lack of care. (It'd been a long five years, okay?) "Sabo is out there, and he's _alone_, and this was the year I first met him! You need to go out there, and -" He racked his brain, searching for something that would make his younger self take note. "- and – be his _friend_."

The boy blinked – once – twice – slowly. "His... friend?"

Nodnodnod. "Yes! The two of us were like brothers!"

"Who was older?"

"... Me, obviously." Shut up, kid. "But that's not important! The point is – you want another kid to play with, right? Not dumbass bandits and people who keep shrieking and trying to edge out of the room when you come in."

It was little-Ace's turn to nod now, face thoughtful. "It'd be kinda nice to have someone _smart_ to talk to..."

Ace beamed. "Exact- _hey_. I'm smart." He ignored the look of impolite disbelief. "You might as well give him a chance, right? And seeing as with my help, you're a lot smarter than last time, you can definitely be the older brother now!"

"So you _weren't_ the older brother last time?"

"... Sometimes I hate you."

**XXXXX**

Sabo couldn't see Ace – the dead one, anyway. Thankfully, little kids are willing to believe plenty of crazy stuff and besides that, it wasn't hard to provide proof that _someone_ could see Sabo pulling faces at little-Ace, even though his back was turned. Little-Ace promptly punched Sabo for this, Sabo punched back, and before long, Ace was on top of Sabo, twisting the blond's arm behind his back and making him call him 'big brother'.

It was the only sensible option, really.

"That's not exactly how brotherly bonding's meant to go," Ace muttered to his younger counterpart, before remembering that actually, violence and establishing dominance _was_ brotherly bonding, and that the only way this differed from his own childhood was that Sabo would have had an equal chance of being the one on top and twisting the other's arm.

Ace decided he preferred it this way.

Little-Ace hadn't played with kids before – partly because the bandits only had one other child with them, who was several years older than him anyway, but mostly because the 'demon' scared the crap out of them. A lot. Especially when he got his hands on knives or matches.

Or _both_.

But let's not talk about That Incident.

In any case, little-Ace was slowly but surely discovering the joys one can get when _not_ terrifying people, but actually working at forming functional relationships with them (e.g., not sneaking up on them with blades, or setting them on fire). Sabo was going through a similar experience, except without the underlying comulsion to brutalize people for the lulz.

Now Ace thought about it, maybe he _shouldn't_ have brought his younger self up like that. Maybe it was bad for his development. Maybe it could be dangerous for him. Maybe it wou-

…

_Naaah_. Totally worth it.


	7. Step 6

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Notes: Busy with a thousand other fics, but I finally managed to shove this chapter out. Hopefully the next ones will be faster. This one's... more a series of interconnected scenes.

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 6**

A crowd had gathered on the lower regions of Mount Corvo, a gathering made up of men and a few women; all their gazes fixed up and above, to where thick plumes of smoke emerged from the raging forest-fire which had only too happily engulfed both the mountain forests and the bandit base that had once rested there.

Then, as one, their heads slowly turned to focus on a small boy some meters behind them, who stared in wide-eyed innocence back at them. And hid a lighter behind his back.

"I di'n't do it."

"_Portgas_..."

**XXXXX**

"- and that's why you'll have to go live in the village," Bogart explained, crouched in front of the six year old. Little Ace gazed up at him, unblinking.

"You can't prove I burned the fuckin' forests down, bastard."

Bogart's mastery of composure, honed by Garp's tortures, was legendary. "Maybe we can work on your language while you're there." He gave a brief pat to the boy's hair (why was it _sticky_? On second thought, he didn't want to know) and headed back to Garp, discreetly wiping his hand on his pants.

"I'm impressed," the ghostly-Ace mused, crossing his arms. "I never burned down an entire forest until I was seventeen. And that was on _purpose_."

His younger self shrugged, flopping down on the ground and enjoying the view of Garp's crew loading supplies. "'M an overachiever. Where's Dadan?"

"Being restrained by two of the Marines. I think she still wants to kill you." Ace beamed, reaching down to ruffle little-Ace's hair (why was it sticky?). "Last I saw, Sabo was poking her with a stick and laughing. I'm kind of impressed the Marines _can_ hold her back, actually."

"She's a pansy," Little Ace muttered, because small children are generally dicks. "'M not afraid o' her."

Ace scratched his chin. "You realize she can beat your head into paste? And now she actually _wants_ to?"

"... Shut up, old man."

The situation was quickly resolved with Ace kicking his younger self (both satisfying him and confusing the nearby Marines as to _why _the boy was mysteriously thrown back into a tree followed by trying to punch thin air), and then running off to investigate Garp's ship.

"You think what they're saying about the kid is true?" one Marine muttered to another beside him, shifting his gun uncomfortably. "Y'know. About..."

His friend grunted. "About the kid being haunted by a demon of pure chaos and evil?"

"Yeah."

"... Probably."

**XXXXX**

Makino bent over to smile cheerfully at the little boy in front of her. "It's nice to meet you, Ace! I'm Makino."

The boy stared up at her dubiously, until the ghostly man by his side kicked him lightly in the leg.

"Be polite!"

"Yo," offered little Ace, which actually _was_ polite for him, even though he still stared.

Makino beamed, reaching out to ruffle his (sticky?) hair. "You'll be living here at the bar with me and Luffy for a while. He's only three, but I bet you'll be good friends, okay?"

Little Ace staaaaaared. Then he looked up at his older (deader) self. "Is she fuckin' nuts?"

While Ace groaned quietly and rubbed his forehead, Makino raced through confusion, feeling insulted, and settled on pity. It wasn't the poor dear's fault for his upbringing, after all. Nor that his 'invisible friend' had such a bad effect on him.

Never mind, she thought compassionately, showing Ace into the kitchen of Party's Bar. It wouldn't take too much work to make sure her new ward outgrew his made-up friend, and made some _real_ ones, after all.

Two hours later, once Garp was sure his adopted grandson had been settled in, he left.

An hour after that, Sabo wandered into the bar as planned and made himself at home.

"This is _so_ messed up," Ace groaned, watching Makino twitching with barely-restrained horror as she saw the after-effects of little Ace and Sabo's cheerful brawling in the kitchen, with help from an enthusiastic Luffy. "I'm not taking the blame for this. Makino's a good woman, Ace! You shouldn't be doing this!"

Little Ace threw a bag of flour at him, which exploded after passing through him and hitting the wall.

When, Ace wondered vaguely, did _he_ become the responsible one?

**XXXXX**

After a month in Fūsha Village, the residents had grown somewhat used to little Ace and Sabo's... playing. Or mass destruction, as it was sometimes called. They'd yet to burn down any buildings, however, which was better than Garp had secretly expected before he left.

Admittedly, this was partly due to Sabo sucking up to Makino so she would believe he was an orphan, and mostly because they were busy training up Luffy for the sheer amusement of corrupting Garp's biological grandson, but still.

The most important thing: no buildings burned down. Can't we at least agree this is good?

Two months after their arrival, Makino managed to force the two older boys into at least going to school _most_ of the time.

Four months after, the village school mysteriously burned down in the night. No-one could give any definite reason as to _how_ it happened, but it was noted there were two very happy six year olds running around town, Luffy in tow.

At least, Ace considered as he was tugged along inside the invisible perimeter he shared with his younger self, the boy was being accused of doing things he'd _actually_ done, this time around.

And maybe he should make sure the kid never, _ever_ ate the Mera-Mera no Mi.

_I was never as bad as this_, Ace told himself silently, while the boys laughingly set up trip-wires across the road into the village, shoving each other and teasing. _I swear. Maybe._

At least he had his hat.

**XXXXX**

The man's gaze was furtive, but surprisingly unembarrassed for a grown man accosting a small child at play. "You're Portgas Ace, right?" he whispered, pulling the wide-brimmed hat down low across his head.

Little Ace peered at him. "Portgas _D_. Ace, old man. An' you look fuckin' stupid. You're old man Hashima from two doors down, aint'cha? You drunk?"

"N-no!" The hat was quickly tugged lower, the voice deepening. "I mean, no! I'm not this 'Hashima' man. You've never met me before in your life!"

The boys stared at him. Ace stared as well, before leaning to tap his living counterpart on the shoulder. "If he offers you candy," he muttered, "don't go with him."

"I ain't stupid, bastard," little Ace yawned, scratching his nose. Ace wasn't sure if the words were directed at him or Hashima, so it probably wouldn't be right to kick the kid. This time.

Hashima ignored him anyway. "I've heard," he growled, before choking a little as he tried to get used to the deep tone, "_ptah, hem_- I've heard you can work curses and summon demons to serve you, Portgas." He lifted the brim of his hat nervously, giving the boys a good look at his face, before realizing they could identify him, and tugging it back down. "I – I want to have a curse put on... someone."

"Fuck off," little Ace said cheerfully, before turning back to his 'brothers'. "Okay, we gonna do this right, first time. We wait 'til they come out the house, then Luffy, you punch Sato in the nuts-"

"Wait!" Hashima screeched, shoving his hand into a pocket and pulling out something, thrusting it – a wad of beli – at the boys. "I'll pay you! I'm good for it!"

Little Ace paused. Ghost Ace had a bad feeling. The boys stared at each other.

"Oh, _fuck_ no," said Ace.

"Huh," Little-Ace considered, staring at the money. "Keep talkin'."

In the end, after ghost Ace had been bribed and cajoled into 'haunting' the unfortunate victim and passing _far_ too much information on for the boys to cause havoc with, it wasn't really surprising that the reputation of the now Dread Sorcerer Ace, his apprentice brothers and their demonic minions grew.

But it sure as hell was _annoying_.


	8. Step 6 & A Half

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Notes: In my defence... I have no defence. Except for a new job, perhaps. To be honest, I've mostly left the One Piece fandom, but what the heck. Apparently some of you guys are still reading this, so...

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 6 ½ – When You Assume, You Make...**

Where little Ace (or Dread Sorcerer Ace, as he was more commonly known) sauntered – and yes, it turned out that a seven year old boy _could_ saunter – the residents of Fūsha Village fell silent, or sometimes skittered behind a door and locked it, muttering prayers to whatever deity they happened to believe in. Some of them prayed to Makino, the only woman who could control him.

Okay, technically it was ghostly-Ace insisting that little-Ace be polite to the woman, but it _looked_ like she was in control. And if that happened to lead to a small, secretive cult springing up that worshipped Makino as an angel sent to save the island from the Dread Sorcerer and his demonic minions... well, that's just how it was.

Ace thought they were all morons, but at least it was entertaining.

"If you don't give me one of those fuckin' apples," little-Ace informed the stall-holder, "I'm gonna-"

"Summon your demon to eat me, I know," came the muttered reply, the market-trader shoving a few of his stock (after a quick quality check – everyone knew what happened if you gave the kid crappy goods) into a bag and holding it out to him. "Here they are, just- just don't hurt me, okay?"

Little-Ace stared at him imperiously, considering. "Fine. _This_ time." Then he snatched the bag and sauntered off to join Sabo and Luffy because, well. In case you haven't noticed, he's growing up to be kind of a dick.

"He's giving you the finger," Ace said casually.

"MY SPIRITS SEE THAT FINGER," Little-Ace bellowed, not bothering to turn. The market-trader gave a low screech of fear, and various wide-eyed bystanders made warding signs, which was the typical response to the kid using his Evil Demonic Powers.

Like I said – _dick_.

"I bring a tithe from our mortal slaves!" he announced to his minio- brothers, sorry, brothers, holding up the bag of apples. "The hunt was good. We shall feast on the red flesh contained within."

"All hail the Dread Sorcerer," intoned Sabo, voice solemn as he thumped his fist to his chest and bowed slightly. They boys managed not to crack up as a nearby woman shrieked, grabbed her daughter and fled before they could start committing Evil Demonic Atrocities on the populace.

The ghostly-Ace rolled his eyes and reached up to pet his hat. Such a faithful companion, and not an insane nutjob like little-Ace and Sabo, or how Luffy was becoming. Just him and hat, completely sane. _He_ wasn't crazy, was he, hat? No, no he wasn't. _Whatever they might say_.

While Luffy tried to shove an apple into his mouth – it was a good try for a Devil-Fruit-less four year old – Ace settled down on the ground to watch his dumbass younger self and brothers. He hadn't known Luffy at this age before, but for himself and Sabo; they looked so much happier and healthier than in his previous life.

And crazier, but you couldn't have everything in life. Or death.

If you ignored the nonsense 'mystical symbols' drawn onto Luffy's face with marker-pen, and the way Sabo would sometimes stare with glazed-eyes into the middle distance, wave his hands and mutter made-up words under his breath, it was reassuring how well they'd come together.

There was Ace – leader of the trio of monsters, thanks to his older self's (unfortunate) teachings and the joy he took in establishing a reign of terror on... well, just about anyone. Then there was Sabo, who hovered somewhere between 'trusted second-in-command' and 'amused equal who only pretends to be second-in-command to make little-Ace feel better'. And then...

Then there was Luffy.

After so many years without him, Ace hadn't realized _quite_ how much he missed him. Sure, this wasn't the Luffy he knew – he didn't even know whether he'd time-travelled or ended up in some other universe. Or perhaps this really _was_ an afterlife, formed out of his own imagining (in which case, Marco was right and he really _was_ completely messed-up in the head. Stupid feather-brain).

But seeing little-Luffy... this was worth it. Maybe even worth dying. The chance to watch them grow, to protect them, train them, traumatize th- no, scratch that one – _care_ for them (yeah, that was better)... he could fix things. Sabo wouldn't have to die. Ace was already growing far more confident and quick-minded than before.

Oh crap. This Ace was actually _better-_adjusted than himself at that age.

That was disturbing.

"Oi, fucktard!"

Ace twitched before slowly deigning to look at his younger self. "What."

"Ahahaha! You answered to fucktard, fucktard!"

He twitched again, gritting his teeth and raising a hand to pinch his brow. Sometimes it was worth it. Sometimes, he just wanted to strangle the little punk. "What. Do you want."

Dread Sorcerer Ace looked at Sabo. Sabo looked at Dread Sorcerer Ace. They nodded, faces grim, the effect somewhat spoiled by Luffy rolling around on the ground beside them, trying to force an entire apple into his mouth.

"We want to know," Sabo said, crossing his arms and staring at where Ace was (years of learning how to look where little-Ace looked had taught him how to detect Ace's location), "how to be _pirates_."

Ace considered this. The boys had discussed it before, of course, but they'd never asked him for advice. To them, he was... well. A ghost. He went by whatever insult Ace called him, or just 'your ghost' whenever Sabo spoke of him to Ace. To Luffy, he was 'the mystery-ghost!', which sounded incredibly lame to his own ears.

It was kind of embarrassing to think that in seven years, little-Ace probably hadn't even wondered why he had a ghost trailing him. A ghost who looked a great deal like him, in fact.

"And why do you think _I_ would know how to be a pirate?"

Little-Ace stared up at him as if his ghost-self were the stupidest fool to ever (dis)grace the planet. "Because you were a pirate, duh."

Ace paused. "Wait – you knew that?"

"What's going on?" Sabo demanded, elbowing his brother in the side. "Oi, you know I can't hear him!"

"He's being a moron again," little-Ace said, rolling his eyes. "As if Dadan never _mentioned_ my dad was a pirate. Duh."

…

Oh. Oh _crap_.

While Sabo gave the place ghostly-Ace was standing a look that clearly said 'you're as stupid as you are deceased', Ace stared at his younger counterpart. Of course Ace had picked up on the fact his father was a pirate – and a dead one at that – but had anyone ever _mentioned_ exactly who his father was?

Garp hadn't, Ace knew that – he'd said 'your father' a few times, he'd implied said father was a pirate, but he'd never...

And Dadan? Well, with little-Ace terrifying her away most of the time, she'd never sat him down and explained about his parents, like she had in the previous lifetime. She'd probably never even _thought_ about it, too busy trying to stop the kid from burning/stabbing/eating/kicking everything in sight and a few things that weren't.

Makino... did Makino even know? Perhaps Garp had told her, but if he had, she'd never mentioned it. Garp had probably presumed Dadan had already told Ace, the idiot.

Not that Ace had any right to insult anyone's intelligence at the moment.

"Guhbluh," he stated.

Little-Ace scowled. "What the fuck's _that _meant to mean, asshat?"

Ace swallowed and tried to think. "You – I -"

His brain whirred with all the messed-up logic a D could contain, which was a lot. A _LOT_. Exceptionally so, in fact.

In his life – everything that tainted everything he _ever_ did – it all stemmed from Rogers. His family issues, self-esteem problems, the feelings of being inadequate, a monster, a demon, a child that should never have been born, a freak who killed his mother, unloved, abandoned –

All because his father was Rogers.

And this Ace, this pliable, still sort-of-slightly innocent kid... he didn't know. He actually thought –

Ace swallowed again and then summoned up the strength to grin, even if it seemed a little strained. "I didn't know you knew I was your dad!" He flung his arms wide, beaming widely now as his improvization bettered. "Gimme a hug, kiddo!"

Little-Ace threw a rock at his head (which went straight through), let out a shriek of, "You look just like a bigger me, how could I _not_ figure it out, dumbass?", and all – oddly enough - was right with the world.

Until Luffy started choking on the apple, but Sabo sorted that out, anyway.

… This was going to bite him on the ass sometime, wasn't it.


	9. Step 7

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Notes: I was stuck in a time-warp for a while, which is why this wasn't up earlier. Apologies for shortness. Also, hi.

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 7**

"Oi, Ace!"

Dread Sorcerer Ace, scourge of Fūsha Village, master of demons, devourer of kittens (just the one time, and that was an _accident_, okay?), scowled at his broth- minion. "It's '_Lord _Ace', Henchman! How many times do I have to tell you?!"

"An' how many times do I have to tell _you_ my name's _Sabo?_" He paused, then reconsidered. "Or maybe I can be a Lord as well... that'd be kind of cool..."

Little-Ace scowled harder, mostly for something to do. "What did you want, anyway?"

Ignoring his brother's expression, Sabo beamed, poking a thumb over his shoulder, back to the main street where he'd just dashed from. "Have you heard? There are _pirates_ nearby. Couple'a the fishermen just got back, say the ship's headed right for the village!"

_Oh_.

While the brats burbled excitedly about pirates and what they might want in a tiny village - and how they'd beat them up, if necessary - Ace eased himself against a tree, managing not to fall through it, and tried to look nonchalant.

Pirates. There weren't many pirates that came to tiny, insignificant little Fūsha Village, and none around this time, except for...

Yeah. Luffy was nearly seven, so from what he remembered of the dates... it _had _to be him. Shanks. Not yet Pirate Emperor, but no rookie, considering his childhood aboard That Man's ship.

If he hadn't been concerned about his younger self picking up on something, Ace would have frowned. On the one hand - Shanks! Great guy, great crew, and an actual _pirate_ - he hadn't seen a decent one in so long! But on the other hand... Shanks. Would Luffy's relationship with the guy be ruined thanks to Ace's meddling? And where Shanks went, there went Ben - the smartest guy Ace knew, smarter than Marco even, and that was saying something.

If anyone was going to pick up something _weird_ about Dread Sorcerer Ace's 'demons'... it would be him. And if somehow, _somehow_, he found out the actual truth of the matter - or if Shanks recognized Rogers in Ace, told him who his father was...

Well. There might not be statues of Rogers, but it wouldn't be two seconds before little-Ace realized his ghostly companion only somewhat resembled the larger, bulkier, older and very moustachioed form of the Pirate King himself.

Which meant that Ace's house of cards was about to come crashing down.

Frick, frick, frickity-crap.

Or maybe it wouldn't? Shanks hadn't known Ace was That Man's kid the first time 'round, when he'd ended up getting drunk with the Red Hair crew; why should Shanks recognize him now, when little-Ace was just a brat?

He had D luck on his side. He could handle this.

Probably.

**XXXXX**

He _could _totally handle this. Huh. Good job, D luck.

While the trio of adorable little nutjobs crowded around the pirates, interrupting their drinking (not that they seemed to mind over-much) and listening to (only _somewhat _exaggerated) stories about battles, treasure and adventures, Ace settled down on the bartop, crosslegged. There weren't many stools or chairs left, and it was just plain creepy the few times of his afterlife that he'd been slow enough to have someone sit _through _him.

Shanks was just as jocular as Ace remembered, and Ace tried to keep his nostalgia to the good side of things - better not to remind himself of his own crew (hedidntmissthemhedidn'tmissthem), nine years gone. The man was younger, of course, and it was fascinating to see him interacting with Luffy and the older boys, teasing and encouraging them.

As long as Luffy could keep his big mouth shut in the face of the crew's curiosity over the whole 'Dread Sorcerer' schtick, they'd do just fine. Considering the kid was six, though... well, little-Ace and Sabo had enough experience at giving him a slap to the head to shut him up.

"So you're the 'Dread Sorcerer', huh?" Shanks grinned, half-drunk despite his impressive alcohol tolerance. "_Dahahaha_, that's cute!"

Little-Ace stared at Shanks as though he were trying to rip the man's soul out with his eyes (which he probably _was _attempting, actually). "I'm not _cute_, bastard." He opened his mouth to say something else, and his ghostly self cringed as Shanks laughed again, reaching out to pat the boy's head.

The boy bit Shanks' fingers, instead.

There was a moment of stunned silence as the entire bar froze, even those who hadn't so much as been looking in Shanks' direction. Mouth open in an 'o' of surprise, eyes wide, Shanks remained silent, small child attached grimly to his hand via teeth-to-fingers contact.

D jaws, Ace knew well, were sharp.

A trickle of blood journeyed lazily down the side of Shanks' hand, two red beads pausing as if to consider their destination before casually dripping down to decorate the wooden floor.

"Holy shit," someone breathed, voice almost as filled with awe as Ace with horror. "He just _bit the Captain_."

"Fifty beli says he's got rabies," another man bet, obviously bored by the spectacle.

There was some mumbling, before one curious pirate queried, "Which one?"

"They're all idiots," Ace muttered, while the betting began. He edged forwards warily, which was ridiculous, because only Ace could see him anyway. "Oi. Oi, Ace?"

Teeth still attached to the statue that was Shanks, little-Ace's eyes steadily turned to the ghost's direction.

"Hey. Look," said Ace, whose diplomatic skills had dropped massively in the last twenty seconds. "It's usually a bad idea to bit pirate captains. Especially guys who are going to be pirate Emperors." Then he adds, because he's a complete idiot, "That guy trained under the Pirate King, he's not someone to screw around with, kid!"

Little-Ace's eyes widen to almost the same size as Shanks', and his eyes turn back to face the man. Then he slowly, carefully, lets the fingers go.

"_We're going to die_," Ace overhears Sabo muttering, smothered slightly by the fact he has his hands covering his face. "I didn't even live long enough to _leave the island_."

"You were trained by _Rogers_?!" Little-Ace exclaims, torn between awe and horror.

Shanks twitches his (bleeding) hand. "You just _bit me!_" he yelps, oddly high-pitched.

Neither Shanks or little-Ace turn out to have rabies, but Shanks _does_ acquire something; while Sabo prefers to spend time with Ben, little-Ace and Luffy fixate on Shanks as the Man Who Is Destined To Train Them, which Ace finds incredibly insulting (isn't he a better teacher? Huh? _Huh?_), and end up following him about (or stalking him), demanding lessons.

At least little-Ace is smart enough to keep up his Dread Sorcerer routine, refusing to tell anyone _how_ he suddenly knew what crew Shanks had been on, even if Ben eyes the boy oddly sometimes, like he's a puzzle he's just itching to put together.

Personally, Ace just thinks they're lucky the brat didn't bite Shanks' fingers off, hilarious as that would be. A one-armed swordsman is cool, but one with a fingerless hand is just _weird_. Besides, it's a pain to stand around and watch the crew laughing and drinking so enthusiastically. Not just because it reminds him of the Whitebeard crew, his family, either.

He just really, _really_ wants to get drunk, dammit.


	10. Step 8

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Notes: I feel the need to point out, as I've failed to do so before now, that ghost!Ace? Completely insane. I don't mean 'ha ha, wacky and hilarious One Piece-style crazy!' or 'gosh, dealing with little-Ace is enough to drive you nuts!'. I mean that he's literally, completely insane, on a barely functional level. As Shiningheart pointed out in a recent review (and probably others, I CAN'T REMEMBER, sorry), he's wiped out his _entire history_. This guy, who valued his friends and family over everything, has no chance at being with them again. He can never speak with them again. The people he knew and loved have been wiped out of history forever, and don't even mourn him because they no longer exist. The only person he's been able to talk to or interact with in a decade is _himself_, which means he has to watch everything he says or does, and hopefully not turn the kid into a Luffy-hater or Whitebeard-killer or Marine-lover by accident. He's watched his mother die, and his own abandonment with a group of criminals. The only way he even manages to _appear_ sane is because he's deluded himself into thinking that he is; a decade teaches you a lot about denial, repression, talking to yourself and how to ignore just about everything you don't have to actively deal with.

In summary: for all that little-Ace has a better chance in life (hopefully), ghostly Ace has been screwed over seven ways to Sunday, and has ten-thousand capital-I Issues bubbling in his subconscious. He can never regain his whole life. He is mentally shattered and twisted beyond repair. For all that he thinks he's saving 'himself', the truth is that he's already damned, doomed and destroyed. The only thing stopping him from realizing this is his subconscious understanding that he couldn't accept everything that he's lost, and thus his automatic repression of it. Ace is already mangled, mentally and emotionally. _Forever_.

Now, on with the wacky hijinks!

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 8**

"Don't worry," said little-Ace, full of the confidence of... youth? Stupidity? Hot-headed arrogance? "Nothing can _possibly_ go wrong."

"Oh great," said the adult, ghostly Ace, who was far more experienced in these matters. "Good job saying that, you've just ruined every chance you had of succeeding." Not that he cared – if would be better if the trio _did_ fail, and besides, he was having more fun waving his hat through Sabo's head.

Little-Ace shot him a glare, and motioned his brothers to hurry up. "Come on! If we don't hurry, they'll-"

"Uh," Sabo commented helpfully, before averting his eyes, and little-Ace blinked before turning and gazing up, up, up into Ben's eyes.

"Whoah." Then, for good measure, the Dread Sorcerer added, "Is it me, or did you get taller?"

Ben, who was in fact the same height as the day after, stared back down; arms folded, expression stern, as he faced the three young boys who were attempting to look innocent. "What are you three doing?"

Luffy looked pleadingly at Sabo. Sabo looked pointedly at little-Ace. Little-Ace turned his eyes to the sky and answered, "Looking for _treasure_."

There was a long pause. Then Ben said, slowly, "Looking... for treasure."

Little-Ace nodded. "Yup."

There was a longer pause, during which Luffy puffed his cheeks out slightly, eyes darting around as he searched for an escape route, while little-Ace looked perfectly comfortable.

"On a _ship_," Ben clarified.

He was correct; they were, in fact, standing on the deck of the Red Haired Pirates' ship. It didn't help that Sabo had been crawling through a window to get inside when Ben had crept up on them like a particularly sneaky ninja of the non-Naruto style.

"Well," reasoned little-Ace, "we figured that a pirate ship would be the best place to find treasure. I mean, pirates gather up all kinds of loot, right?" Sabo and Luffy nodded furiously in agreement. "So where better to find treasure, if you don't have a map or some shit, than on a pirate ship? It cuts out all the trouble, ya know?" He beamed.

"Bad move," Ace muttered, not loud enough for his younger self to hear.

Ben rubbed his chin in thought. "I see. So what you're saying is... you thought you'd steal from a ship full of dangerous pirates."

There was another pause, twice as long and about twenty times as awkward.

"_Obviously_ this was a practice run to get ready for other ships," little-Ace continued, as if he hadn't missed a beat, and while Sabo face-palmed in despair at his alleged superior's idiocy. "As we certainly wouldn't steal from our beloved local pirates and almost-sort-of-family-members, _would we_?"

"Really? I thought that's what we were doing," Luffy said, one finger digging around his nostril, and ruining everything his big brother had said.

Ben, Ace noticed, was having a hard time keeping a straight face as his younger self screeched and started smacking Luffy round the back of the head. He heard Sabo mutter something about being surrounded by idiots, and was forced to agree.

**XXXXX**

"Okay." Little-Ace slammed his fist down onto his open palm, face determined. "Yesterday's 'Operation: Sneak Away on a Pirate Ship to a Life of ADVENTURE' failed. All because of Luffy."

"Hey!"

Sabo rolled his eyes. He'd become an expert at it. "I think it's 'cuz you jinxed us. And because it was a dumb-ass plan," he added.

Little-Ace snorted. "Yeah, well. Who's the Dread Sorcerer here?"

"None of us."

"Silence, minion! Listen to my words! Mwa ha ha!"

Sabo rolled his eyes. Again.

"Now," said little-Ace, once he was sure of attention from all quarters (or as much of it as he could get from Luffy, at least, who was often distracted by passing butterflies, anything involving shininess or meat, and bongo music). "We're clearly going to have to come up with another plan. One with a better chance of working. Ideas? Yes, Sabo?"

Putting his hand down, Sabo replied promptly. "Teacher! Why don't we try waiting until we're old enough to get a ship and become pirates on our own?"

Little-Ace scratched his chin in deep consideration. "That's just crazy enough to work," he mused, before flinging a peace of chalk at Sabo's head. Ace wasn't entirely sure where he'd got it from. "FOOL! That's boring, and if there's one thing we're not going to be as pirates, it's _boring_! Besides, waiting is for pansy loser jerks."

Sabo groaned, ignoring the chalk mark on his face. "Ace, it's been nearly a _year_. Can we stop trying to sneak onto their stupid ship now? _Please_?"

Shooting him a filthy-look, little-Ace pulled another piece of chalk from nowhere (actually his pocket) in a fairly impressive demonstration of sleight-of-hand. Well, for a ten year old. But hey, as Ace had told the kid, he couldn't rely on one ghost to be a 'Dread Sorcerer', and the brat was picking up a few other little tricks well enough.

"There's no reason we can't be pirates tomorrow,"the kid growled, "or _now_, if we wanted! As long as we get on Shanks' ship and don't get caught until we're at sea, what are they gonna do?"

"Take us back to the village?" Luffy guessed.

"No! Well, okay, _maybe_. But they might not!" Little-Ace fist-pumped, face determined. "And we've gotta take that chance!"

"That's a _really_ low chance," said Sabo.

"But not impossible!"

Ace shot a look at the bar's clock. "Are you brats done now?"

"No, now shut up." Little-Ace crossed his arms, stubborn as ever. "Not you, Sabo, don't look at me like that. I was talking to my dumbass dad. Right! Let's start planning for when they get back!"

Ace, even better at it by now than Sabo, rolled his eyes before wandering through the nearest wall to get some quiet.

**XXXXX**

When Shanks and his crew returned from their latest voyage, Ace – lounging against the bar's wall as he watched the various greetings – noticed something that was most likely completely unimportant. A wooden box, probably containing part of the pirates' most recent loot, left up on the bartop, where they'd been showing off the contents to each other before moving on to better things (i.e., heavy drinking).

Whatever was in it had to be worth plenty, if they were pleased enough to have brought it off the ship to look at, and weren't offering it in exchange for more drinks or food.

"Oi," he wandered over and nudged his younger self with an elbow, despite having to crouch down to do so. "Find out what's in that box."

Little-Ace, busy attempting to arm-wrestle an amused Lucky Roux, shot him a look which, thanks to years of experience, Ace translated as, '_Why should I? I'm busy, shitface!_'

"I think it might be worth a lot, and you like expensive stuff, right?" Ace shrugged. _And I'm bored_, he neglected to mention. _No-one's said hi to _me_, and it's not like I can get a damn drink._

Entertained by the sight of the kid's eyes lighting up, Ace ruffled the brat's hair (he loved pissing him off) and ambled off as far as the spatial restriction would allow.

Apart from trying to keep himself diverted by the various antics of the crew, Ace kept a watchful eye over the brothers as first, little-Ace lost his arm-wrestling match and scuttled off to whisper something in Sabo's ear who – secondly – wandered casually around before _happening_ to come across Luffy and lean down to talk quietly to him.

Luffy, it was well-known, was such an idiot that he could get away with _anything_. All it took was a, 'Shishishi, I was _investigating_!' and a wide-mouthed grin to make people sigh and let the mentally-defective child go.

Which made him, Ace supposed, a pretty good choice to walk past the box and casually pick it up, trotting out of the room while little-Ace and Sabo suddenly started a completely coincidental brawl on the other side of the room, screaming death-threats at the top of their lungs, eyes flaming as they attempted to tear each other to pieces; or at least, seemed to.

"I've created _monsters_," Ace muttered proudly, for the fifty-thousandth time since his death. Then he went back to wishing he could drink, ignoring the table that sailed past his head.

**XXXXX**

After the fight had been broken up, little-Ace and Sabo banished by the wrath of Makino (always a good excuse to flee without suspicion), Ace drifted after his younger self, Sabo darting on ahead to find Luffy.

"It must be something really cool!" little-Ace crowed, not too loudly; it was all very well for a Dread Sorcerer to talk to himself in public, but it had to be about something intimidating. "Hey, are you _sure_ you don't know what's in it, bastard?"

Ace, long-used to being referred to by any number of insults, shrugged and yawned. "Nah. Didn't see." Bored, bored, bored. Jeez, when were these kids going to grow up and get off the damn island already? He'd already missed out on killing the Tenryuubito who murdered Sabo last time round; the filth hadn't stopped by such an insignificant village last year.

Maybe one day, he could convince his younger self to kill that trash. Or have Sabo kill him instead, for maximum irony. _Bwa ha ha_.

Then he ambled behind his younger self into the boys' shared bedroom, where he found Luffy shoving what was presumably the Gomu Gomu no Mi down a flailing Sabo's mouth in a fit of rage.

While the living Ace paused and tilted his head as he watched, confused, ghostly Ace took a deep, unneeded breath, before screaming "_ACE, STOP HI-_"

And then Sabo bit down hard on Luffy's hand, snarling in demented fury – Luffy fell back, grabbing his injured hand and aiming a kick at Sabo's face – and Sabo's head snapped back from the strike, hacking and thrashing as he swallowed, bits of curl-patterned splattering from his mouth.

"Huh," said little-Ace.

"_SHIT_," said ghostly Ace.

"He bit me!" said Luffy.

"_Ptooie_," said Sabo, sitting up dazedly as he spat out a thick stem. "Oh, man, that was _disgusting_. Dammit Luffy, I was only teasing you!"

"WHY," Ace screamed in wide-eyed horror, nails digging into his cheeks as his younger self winced at the volume, "DO YOU MORONS HAVE TO KEEP BITING PEOPLE?!"

"Humans are delicious," little-Ace informed him cheerfully, excavating a nostril.


	11. Step 9

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sorry for massive update wait, RL got annoying. Anyway, counting votes from the polls and reviews, it looks like it's going to be plotty crack/cracky plot. There's also a massive timeskip in this chapter, but this was actually planned to happen before the poll, so nobody influenced it. What comes after, however...

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 9**

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID I CAN'T BELIEVE IT HOLY FUCK WHAT'S EVEN GOING TO HAPPEN NOW HOW ARE YOU THAT STUPID," said Ace.

Little-Ace shot him an odd look. "What the crap did you just say?"

"HE JUST ATE THE -" Ace began, before realizing that he should have no idea it was the Gomu-Gomu no Mi. "Uh – HE JUST THE DEVIL FRUIT! LOOK!" He jabbed a finger at the curly leftovers Sabo had helpfully spewed around the floor. "HE'S EATEN THE DEVIL FRUIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT!"

"Seriously, Dad, you can stop jumping around like a dumbfuck," little-Ace sighed, scratching his cheek. "Hell, that's _awesome! _Now he's eaten a Devil Fruit, he might even beat me in sparring."

"I win half our spars anyway!" Sabo snapped as he picked himself off the floor, wiping mangled fruit and saliva off himself. "Ugh, this is- wait, Devil Fruit?" He stopped, eyes widening, and stared at Luffy. "You shoved a _Devil Fruit_ down my throat?!"

Luffy squinted at him. "No I didn't! I just shoved it in your mouth. You're the one who swallowed it!"

Ace put his head in his palms and tried to set the bickering kids on fire with his mind. Bereft of the Mera-Mera no Mi, he failed miserably.

**XXXXX**

It didn't take more than thirty seconds to figure out what Devil Fruit it was, because it only took thirty seconds before little-Ace tried to punch Sabo in the shoulder, only to find his fist bouncing back off.

Sabo was delighted. Little-Ace was horrified. Especially when Sabo took advantage of the situation to start punching little-Ace. Sure, his rubber-punches didn't hurt much at the moment, but once he'd figured out angles and momentum like even the idiot Luffy had in the old timeline – well, Ace figured he'd be just as terrifying an opponent. And to think people ever thought a rubber-power was _useless_. Ha!

But... this came with a load of problems, however funny Luffy found little-Ace's screeching as he tried to avoid Sabo's gleeful attacks. Ace sat down cross-legged in a corner and tried to figure it out.

With no rubber fruit... what happened? He tried to recall what Luffy had mentioned of his pre-Ace life back home. Luffy ate the Fruit, Shanks had a panic-attack – wasn't there a bandit involved? Was that the day the Sea-King – no, that came later; today was the day those assholes came to the bar, right? Ace's eyes narrowed as he considered. They'd have to be dealt with, even if they weren't a threat this time around – no-one hurt _his _little brother and lived to tell of it, even if it only happened in another world.

Well, he'd work that out later. More importantly... ah, hell. It wouldn't make things too different, would it? He'd just put more effort into training the kid, and at least without that immunity to bullets and blunt objects, Luffy wouldn't go running into those attacks. Hopefully. … Nah, he probably would. Great. He'd have to get little-Ace to to smack some sense into the cute punk.

Screw it. You know what? It _was _time to take care of those bandits. At least a little violence should calm him down.

******XXXXX**

Except it didn't. Because they didn't turn up.

Apparently even shitty-brained bandits weren't dumb enough to attack Fūsha Village, and certainly not Party's Bar, haunt of the Dread Sorcerer and his two minions of evil.

What the hell was _wrong _with bandits these days?! The kids had only stuck a _few_ giant-tiger corpses on spikes at the village gate! Was that really enough to make grown men crap their pants? Geez. _Pathetic_.

So the bandit, whatever his name was – Ace had never cared to find out – wasn't around. Hell, maybe he was dead already in this world, Ace didn't know. The point was, he hadn't attacked the bar, and the only excitement they found when they oh-so-casually wandered back in was Shanks swooning everywhere in over-acted horror over the Devil Fruit being missing. It took ten seconds for Ben to notice the kids' expressions of badly-faked innocence and rumble them.

Well, at least the pirates found it more funny than angering, especially when Luffy happily confessed to shoving it in Sabo's mouth ("Not down his throat! He keeps saying I made him eat it, but that's 'cause he's stupid!" "SHUT UP, LUFFY!"). So it wasn't really a big deal. No bandit attack today. No Luffy charging after a bandit and pissing him off. No bandit tossing Luffy to a sea-king. So hey, Shanks wouldn't lose his arm, wouldn't give Luffy his hat, wouldn't-

Oh. Crap.

He'd pretty much changed everything.

… On the bright side, there was no-one who knew what had originally happened, so no-one could blame him! So it was all okay! Yay!

… fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck forever. Fuck. Fuck.

"I hate my death," Ace muttered, and died a little more, on the inside.

******XXXXX**

Seven years after Shanks had left Dawn Island – happily waving _both_ his very-much attached hands at the villagers who'd crowded to see the pirates off, straw-hat perched atop his head and no-one but Ace seeing anything SERIOUSLY FREAKIN' WRONG with this picture - Fūsha Village was celebra- sorry, _mourning_, the imminent loss of two of its most memorable inhabitants.

"You're both going to wrap up warmly, right?" Makino warned the teenagers, who tried not to squirm in embarrassment.

"Makino-saaan, not in front of the crowd," little-Ace muttered, eyeing the raucous villagers, who were passing out punch and snacks under a massive banner, which read, '_THE DREAD SORCERER IS LEAVING!_'. He sniggered. "Hey, Sabo, they're not even mentioning yo- OW, YOU FU- uh, sorry Makino-san."

At which Makino slapped them both upside the head, scowling. "Ace, Sabo, you're practically adults now! Sabo, don't hit Ace. Ace, don't swear. Especially not in front of Luffy! Can't you two set a good example for him? Honestly, what are you two _thinking?_"

Little-Ace – not not so little – and Sabo went silent, trying not to consider all the horrible, terrible, sadistic things they'd got up to, Luffy along for the ride and often taking an active part in the proceedings. "We'd never set a bad example for Luffy," Sabo declared, face solemn. After all, learning the best way to make and use explosives was an education, not a bad example, right?

Luffy, meanwhile, was clambering over the other two boys' boat, busy exploring, though what ther was to 'explore' in the tiny vessel was up for debate. The important thing was that he wasn't making holes in it or scrawling graffiti on it, so little-Ace and Sabo were chalking that up as a win.

While Makino cooed over Sabo ("You'll make sure to write regularly, won't you? Just reading about you in the news won't let me know you two are okay!" - "Uh, Makino-san, we don't really want to be traced back here..."), ghostly-Ace ambled behind his counterpart. It still seemed weird, the kid being only a little smaller than him, but at least the kid had put down their suspiciously identical looks to awesome genetics.

"You're okay with this?" he muttered, which was pointless, as little-Ace was the only one who could hear him.

Little-Ace shrugged. "Hey, it's fine. Just means we need to work at a faster pace, right? We can go back and sight-see later on." He turned his head slightly to look at the spirit, and grinned at the look on his face. "Really, it's _fine_. You've spent my whole life looking after me, right? It's only fair I give something back."

"_Ace_," Makino sighed, pausing in the act of twisting Sabo's ear until he stopped begging for mercy and agreed to write home, "Please stop talking to thin air. It makes you look a little odd."

"Yes, Makino-san."

"BARTENDER'S PET!" Luffy yelled from somewhere in the boat.

"I'll punch him before we leave," Sabo whispered to little-Ace, which was rather stupid. Makino twisted his ear harder. "GAH, OKAY, I WON'T, I WON'T!"

Makino smiled sweetly, ignoring the now slightly-drunken villagers, Sabo with tears streaming down his face, and Luffy doodling on the sails. "Ace, I know you're not one for letter-writing, but you'll make sure to let me know you're all right, won't you?"

Little-Ace looked at Sabo, who was on his knees. Whimpering. And possibly dying. "Yes, Makino-san."

"And you won't pick any fights with anyone out of your league, will you?"

"No, Makino-san."

"And you'll make sure to get plenty of food and sleep, and run away if a fight looks to be going bad, won't you?"

"Yes, Makino-san."

"And if you _don't_ look after yourself and Sabo," Makino smiled gently, Sabo's ear going worryingly white from lack of blood, "I'm going to hear about it. And then I'm going to be _very_ upset."

Little-Ace swallowed. "Yes, Makino-san."

"Good! It's lovely to hear you'll be smart, the pair of you!" She beamed, a beautiful smile full of roses and sunshine, letting go of Sabo's ear to ruffle his hair. "Now, let's get Luffy out of there before he writes anything rude." She started briskly towards the boat, where Luffy – halfway through doodling a picture of a penis on the sail - spotted her coming and froze in the hopes of her not being able to see a non-moving target.

Sabo managed to get to his feet, cupping his poor ear in one hand and wincing. "_Geeez_. You'd think the villagers should be trying to get rid of _her_."

"Don't distract me," little-Ace hissed, through clenched teeth. Yes, he managed to hiss it. Don't ask. "I'm still trying not to piss myself."

"You're not the one who has to _write_ to her, Sabo muttered. I mean, how am I going to let her thinking we're not pulling stupid shit? Or any more than usual, anyway?"

Little-Ace, more certain of his bladder-control, went for the option of one of his major abilities. "Blatant lies, Sabo. The power of blatant lies."

"More importantly," said ghostly-Ace, squinting at the boat, "I think you'll need to cover over the penis. And the naked woman with the massive breasts. And maybe Luffy's bloodstains."

"Yeah, yeah." Little-Ace stretched, wrapping an arm around Sabo's rubbery shoulders and half-dragging him towards where Makino was giving Luffy a demonstration of what happens when your mother-figure finds you drawing perverted pictures on your brothers' property (hint: it hurts). "Come on, Sabo – we've got a Yami-Yami no Mi to find, and it's a long way to go."


	12. Step 10

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
**IMPORTANT:** So, you know that feeling when you read through your reviews and realize that you have a _MASSIVE, GAPING PLOT-HOLE_ which turns the entire story pointless? No, I'm not talking about Ace being a ghost. Or time-travelling. In fact, this entire story is built on bullshit. I mean that I completely forgot ghost!Ace used to tell little!Ace stories about Luffy and Sabo.  
Oops.  
So having re-read the earlier chapters, I was going to say that hey, Ace was so young, he didn't really understand/forgot it all. Except ghost!Ace explained about meeting Sabo to make little!Ace meet him. So there's no way I can bullshit my way through that. Double-oops.  
3 options: _One_ – I go back and rewrite. Fuck that, I'm lazy and not getting paid for this shit.  
_Two_ – I wrangle up a convenient bullshit explanation involving head-injuries from fights, the fact that Sabo and Luffy never heard any of these stories, and little!Ace just generally forgetting stuff and when asking ghost!Ace about him, ghost!Ace changing names and generally lying his ghostly ass off. This requires even more massive suspension of disbelief than I'm willing to go with, so ignore it.  
_Three_ – The option I've picked, which is now going to be a major plot point, as well as being hilariously sadistic. For ghostly-Ace, especially.  
Ho ho ho.  
You'll get the answer eventually but rest assured, ALL WILL BE REVEALED. If anyone notices any other gaping WTF moments, kindly point them out, because I started this fic as sheer crack ages ago and am lazy.  
Also, to Majin Hentai X's comment regarding Luffy dying against Eneru... do you _seriously_ think I'm going to be sticking that close to canon? I _like_ screwing shit up. It's fun.

**XXXXX**

**How to Gain An Invisible Friend**

**XXXXX/STEP 10**

Once upon a time, Ace Senior – wait, that made him sound old. Okay, _Magical Spirit Ace_... no, too magical-girl sounding... okay, Spirit!Ace . No, _SpAce_... okay, those all sounded terrible. Maybe... whatever, just _Portgas_.

So. Once upon a time, Portgas had been the subject of a great number of restrictions. He couldn't touch anything. Couldn't be seen or heard by anyone but Ace. Couldn't go too far from the kid. Couldn't find his hat.

Shut it, that was a serious restriction. His hat was awesome.

Over the years, Portgas was glad to find, those changed somewhat. He'd got so used to making sure he wore his hat, he could keep it in existence without even consciously thinking about it – he could interact with Ace, or anything Ace was holding or wearing pretty much as normal – he could even choose to make himself solid with regards to certain surfaces now, much as the ground was solid to him; no longer did the mighty and amazing Portgas D. Ace have to worry about slipping through a wall or not being able to sit down on a chair! Mwa ha ha!

Okay, so he still couldn't pick up everyday objects or touch anyone but Ace, so clearly the 'rules' were either still massively inconsistent, or he wasn't understanding them right. But hey, it was closer to normal, right?

Plus, knocking or scratching his nails along walls when someone thought they were alone was hilarious. Especially when they peed themselves, screamed that the Dread Sorcerer was after them, and ran for it.

The best thing, though? The distance.

Every year or so, the distance Portgas could get from his younger self increased. At first in dribs and drabs, hardly worthwhile... but over the last few years, it had leapfrogged. Now, Portgas could merrily escape nearly a hundred meters from his slightly shorter counterpart.

It was wonderful!

It was fantastic!

Unfortunately, he was currently stuck on a tiny sailboat with both Ace and Sabo.

It sucked.

"I think I'd rather fall through the boat and drown," he grumbled, trying to ignore the way Sabo occasionally moved a limb through him.

Ace rolled his eyes, which at least meant he stopped looking at the map for a minute. "Oh, stop whining, it's not like you could drown anyway, dead-guy. It isn't that far to Loguetown, we can stock up, get a bigger boat and head straight for the Grand Line. It'll be _easy_."

"And a Log Pose," Sabo added. Over the years, he'd lost the ability to be weirded out by his brother talking to thin air. "Unless, y'know, you _want_ to just sit out in the middle of nowhere and starve to death, completely lost. Not _my_ kink, but hey, whatever."

"You'd probably dehydrate before drowning," Portgas pointed out. Ace once more eye-rolled, and then thumped him in the side. His ghostly self promptly punched back.

Sabo watched for a moment, wondering whether it was meant to be strange to watch a teenager wrestling with what was apparently absolutely nothing – particularly with the way Ace's feet sometimes left the boat entirely, leaving him dangling in midair while he launched a few kicks at whatever part of Portgas' body he was attacking – before returning to his writing.

_Dear Makino-san,  
It's only been three days since we left the village, and Ace has already nearly eaten all our supplies. By which I don't mean just the food ones. There's something seriously disturbing about his stomach.  
We should be reaching Loguetown by tomorrow night, assuming Ace doesn't eat the map. Or the compass. Or the sail. Thankfully, he hasn't eaten the money, which I've kept safe on my person. As we'll be reaching Loguetown late, we'll probably find an inn and spend the night there. Despite the tight schedule Ace and his dad want to keep to, there's no way I'll let us try and make for the Grand Line at night, so don't worry about it.  
I'll write some more when we get to Loguetown, and maybe post this before we leave._

He flicked the lid back onto the pen, slipped both pen and paper inside his jacket, and sat back. Ace was still punching at the air. He wasn't surprised.

"I'm just... gonna practice my haki," he mumbled, sinking back against the edge of the boat and tipping his top hat down to cover his eyes. Practice his kenbunshoku haki? Like hell. Sleeping sounded _way_ better right now.

******XXXXX**

_Continuing on, Makino-san, we've now arrived safely at Loguetown. It didn't take us long to find someone willing to buy the boat -_

("It's worth 5000 beri, so that's what we're selling it for."

"Really, I'd say it's more like 2000 beri – and you've got those patches on the sails..."

"_It's worth 5000 beri_."

"No, see, it looks like the hull's nearly been punched through he-"

"_IT'S. WORTH. 5000. BERI._"

"... Of course it is, sir!")

- _and we spoke to a couple of the locals about finding a decent place to stay for the night._

("ARGH – p-please, stop hurting me!"

"Hey, that's what you get for trying to mug a couple of innocent, harmless travelers like us. Right, Sabo?"

"Hold on, Ace – I think this one has a gold filling."

"YAAAARRGHHHHHHHH!"

"Hey, yeah, that looks real! Good work spotting that, bro, just wipe it off before you put it away. Now, where were we... oh, yeah. You guys know a good place to stay around here?"

"I'll tell you anything! _Anything!_")

_We'll look for a new boat or ship tomorrow, so there's not much else to say. Hope Luffy isn't giving you too much trouble!  
Love, Sabo  
P.S.: Ace says hi, and some other stuff that's too stupid to write down. His dad said something too, but Ace punched him, so that was probably something stupid as well._

******XXXXX**

Portgas looked around Loguetown with something like fondness. It had been a long, _long _time since he'd last been here, even if he'd technically _never_ been here in his timeline. It had been a quick in-and-out supply-run – he hadn't wanted to spend any more time here than necessary, the birthplace of Gol D. Roger, where the main tourist attraction was the scaffold on which he'd died.

Screw _that_ asshole.

Now, though – well, even though it was darkening and most people were coming home from work, shops all closed up, there was something almost nostalgic about it. Plus, the fact it was somewhere other than Fūsha Village made it worthwhile anyway.

He tapped Ace's shoulder. "Oi, I'm gonna have a look around, see if I can find any shops that might have Log Poses. You two gonna be okay without me?"

Ace stared at him.

"... Okay, point taken. You crazy kids have fun, 'kay?"

Sabo's gaze flicked between Ace and whatever Ace happened to be looking at. "What's going on?"

"Eh, he's heading off to look for a Log Pose. Bored, I guess." Ace shrugged as Portgas vanished off up a side-street. The ability to walk through walls _would_ make looking for a Log Pose easier, he guessed. "Hey, you really up for sleeping right now? I mean, _I'm_ not tired."

Considering the matter, Sabo had to admit, he wasn't really all that ready for sleep. And besides, they were on a tight schedule – they wouldn't have much time for sight-seeing in the morning. "All the shops are closed, Ace."

Ace _beamed_. "Shops, yeah. That? Isn't a shop."

Sabo looked to where Ace was pointing. "A bar? Ace, I've _seen_ you drunk. It's not pretty."

"Yeah, but Makino isn't in charge, here! She can't cut us off, or even _tell_ us off! Plus, I bet there's way more types of drink here than back on measly little Dawn Island, aren't there? And if you're gonna write a book about the world, wouldn't it be better if you met some of the people in it? Without killing 'em, I mean?"

As always, Sabo felt his foreboding rise, even as his ability to argue drained away. "Well... I guess that makes sense."

"Right!" Ace headed towards the bar, grinning away merrily at the sight of the windows lit up from within. "Besides, any pub called the Gold Roger Bar _has_ to be pretty cool!"

******XXXXX**

Raoul was, as a rule – ignore the pun, please – not overly keen on Marines, which was a pity, because – as any Loguetown resident could tell you – after Gold Roger's execution, his bar had become almost solely for Marines. Sure, there were a few others who wandered in, but they were generally related to, or guests of, the Marines. Even the civilian workers at the local Marine base drank elsewhere.

Considering the local Marines were corrupt, incompetent, over-violent dumbasses though, that was probably good taste. Hell, there were more bar-fights now than back when it was a _pirate_ bar. And more hookers, too.

When the door opened, Raoul presumed it was yet another pissant Marine stumbling in to blow all his money on booze (and perhaps more illicit substances in one of the corners), and carried on pouring shots for a dipshit Ensign who'd had too many already, right up until someone called out, "Hey, kids! This is a Marine bar, so get the fuck out."

Being pay-day (and thus causing them to be in a good mood), this was the politest of the standard ways for the Marines to see someone off.

That someone happily yelled back, "Wow, a Marine bar? I thought bars were for people who can _hold_ their drink. Still, I guess it isn't hard for a bunch of knuckle-draggers to get confused."

Amidst the ensuing silence, there was the sound of someone, very gently, setting their glass down.

Raoul, in a well-practised movement, ducked behind the bar and hoped the restoration wouldn't cost _too_ much.


End file.
